


Not myself No more

by gato_jazz



Category: The Walking Dead (TV), The Walking Dead - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, I'm a better father than you, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Past Rick Grimes/Shane Walsh, Shane Lives
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-02
Updated: 2014-10-02
Packaged: 2018-02-19 13:57:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,919
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2390822
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gato_jazz/pseuds/gato_jazz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After getting stabbed by Rick, Shane dies. Then, he comes back, half dead. Now he can see, feel, smell and taste but he can't talk or move, at least, the way he wants to. What happens when people turn into walkers? They really die? Or just... half die? Doctor Milton would approve. Crack!fic, satisfy your curiosity, read and leave your thought, or your condolence to half-alive Shane.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not myself No more

**Author's Note:**

> I got this idea from a friend. He imagined Shane remaining "half-walker". He can see what he does, but he can't control it. Like being in coma. Rick feels sorrow and let him "live". Carl and Rick leave him alone and all Shane can do is think. He can think, see, smell, taste. I saw in that a crack!fic and had to do it.
> 
> I chose English because that's Shane language, nothing more. Sorry in advice for mistakes. Nothing of Walking Dead belongs to me, except Shane, I took it out from the dead list and put him here.
> 
> Any thoughts and critiques welcome.

He looked at Rick eyes directly and the man shook at the contact. He was standing on, Carl behind, a few feet away from him. Assumed he was lying down, felt the grass under her hands and legs, they were kind of heavy.

He tried to speak. He tried to call him by his name. Nothing happened.

The fear invaded him; He though he heard a moan. Froze. What was happening to him?

Carl was pointing at him with a gun.

Remembered the stab, the shot, Rick talking. Saying something was his fault. Something Rick was doing, something Rick was doing to him was, in fact, something he was doing to himself.

Couldn't think clearly at that time and now he saw it.

Remembered looking at the blood, his blood. His blood in his clothes. His blood in Rick's hands and body. He felt the drops from his nose. Tried to frown but couldn't.

He saw Rick shaking his head, totally out of himself, sad.

He though he had choked on his own blood but now he was breathing again, somehow.

Looked at Rick again, he couldn't move either. What was this? What was that look in Rick's eyes?

Mess. Sorrow. Misery. Sadness.

¿Melancholia?

The same look he had that day, when he was shouted.

* * *

 

_On duty_

The day had passed without major setbacks. An attempted theft, the threat of a rapper husband, a bar fight. Nothing new.

They decided to get lunch in the police car, like when they were young and the only thing in their minds was their work. That had changed, anyway? Well, at least for Rick. He looked worried, hopeless, resigned. He really didn't know what to do. How to comfort him, how to convince him everything were going to be alright. They started talking about Carl and school while buying the lunch. Rick sighed hard when the name of Lori arrived to the conversation, almost by accident. At this he decided to change the subject. Women. That always cheered Rick up. They could spend hours talking about his conquests, his love slights, his troubles, everything.

Rick was behind the wheel, so he asked for their order. It was Shane's duty to wink his eye to the fast food employee and get their food for free. Rick stifled a giggle while doing that. The same girl disappeared a few seconds and reappeared with the two hamburgers, the French fries and the beverages. He smiled and Rick drove a few more blocks to get to a proper place to park.

"What's the difference between men and women?" asked Rick with half smile.

"Is that a joke?"

"No, serious." Rick answered while giving him a napkin.

He explained him his thoughts about the topic, maybe exaggerating a bit, but all this that he had to do was to distract Rick from whatever was bothering him.

It worked. The girl troubles to turn off lights seemed to be some kind of funny, for both.

At least until some point.

He talked about switches while soaked one of his French fries in Rick's hamburger. Rick didn't mind about it and just kept on smiling, or at least trying to, and agreeing with him. He ignored that.

The first genuine smile arrived when he called himself Reverend Shane. He turned to look at Rick at that precise time, thank God. He smiled even with his eyes closed, appearing to be more relaxed, more himself.

He used that name again and explain to him his theory about the light switches that go both ways and how to explain that to chicks, especially to the last one, who was obssessed with things like global warming and didn't have the brains to relate that to the waste of energy.

"And that's when the exorcist voice pops out... You sound just like my damn father. Always yelling about the power bill, telling me to turn off the damned lights."

"And what do you say to that?" Rick asked with a raspy voice

"You know want I wanna say" said convinced. "I wanna say 'Bitch, you mean to tell me you've been hearing this your entire life, and you're still too damn stupid to learn how to turn off a switch".

Their eyes connected for a few miliseconds and Rick, this time, laughed, not willing to avoid it. He laughed for a few seconds. That was relief.

"You know I... I don't actually say that although".

"That would be bad" said Rick, clearly distracted from his issues and feeling comfortable just joking with his friend.

"Yeah. I go with... I go with the polite version"

"Very wise" affirmed Rick.

"Yes, sir" he said. Then the silence came again. That shitty silence. That overwhelming silence. A few seconds were enough. Now what? They moved in their seats, none of them wanted to continue.

"And how's with Lori, man?" asked quietly, couldn't face him. Didn't want to see his face.

"She's good. She's good at turning off lights" said Rick and Shane smiled. Rick then muttered something more about lights.

"That's not what I meant" said Shane, turning to the window.

Silence again.

Rick started to talk and he quickly tried to stop him, returning to the reverend Shane thing, that worked before after all.

"The least you can do is speak" said looking at him, with a funny face. Then he understood.

Damn. That was Rick's problem. Talking.

Rick said that Lori encouraged him to speak more to her. He was clearly frustrated and rubbed his chin with strenght.

"Do you express your thoughts?" Maybe talking with him would help, he thought.

* * *

 

Suddenly felt a foot on his neck. It was Rick's. That sad look now was closer. He could smell Rick's perfume from that distance. It invaded him. In another moment, he would have smiled. This wasn't one of that moments. Tried to speak again. Rick. Rick, let me out. Another moan. Was that happening to him? Was he turning?

Rick was frozen too. Carl approached. He was holding his gun. That little kid. He remembered how that same day had to go to Carl's school to face Lori and tell her about Rick. The little kid was smiling and saying hello to him, before Lori walked to him and leaned on her knees to talk. Then his expression changed. No more hellos to him. Now only preocupation for his father.

"Is he dead?" Carl asked in a whisper.

Rick didn't answer but he felt the obligation to do it. Managed to rise a hand, tried to say hello one more time, like that day. Carl opened his eyes widely. He was afraid. And he was inducing that. Made every effort in saying hello. Carl backed away. Rick came closer. Now he could read his eyes. Look for something. An indication that Rick was reading his eyes too, looking for life, memories. Looking for Shane.

He thought he could smile because Rick smiled back. His pure white teeth greeted him like it was the first time.

Raised his hand again. This time could touch him. He petted his boot. It was covered in blood and dirt.

Screamed of fear when his maxilars moved, like trying to chew something. He saw Rick with a frown. The smile disappeared in one second. Then he almost panicked when he felt his body moving, trying to grab Rick. He was trying to get up. But not to walk away, not to go and hug Carl or Rick. He was trying to get up to grab Rick, or Carl, or someone. He felt hunger.

Tried to make those emotions fly away. Succeed.

Now he was looking at Rick with sorrow. He felt sorry for himself. Sorry about what was happening. He was convinced. He finally turned.

"It was truth" heard Rick's whispery voice.

_What was true Rick?_

"What's true?" Carl asked.

"We die. We turn" Rick answered. Sink his eyes in Shane's. They were not the same.

_Rick… I'm alive. Keep looking._

He tried to speak again but this time was harder.

"What are we going to do?"

"Carl... listen to me... and listen to me fine. Go back to the house. Tell everyone you're fine, I'm fine. Tell everyone that Shane..."

Then Rick turned speechless. Tears started to pop out of his eyes. Those blue eyes. Some landed on his face. He could feel them.

After, he heard Carl's steps leaving them alone. Like that time, in the forest. Like all those times on duty. Like all those times in the office, at school, at Rick's house or his.

Words started to resound on his ears.

"I'm a better father than you, Rick"

"I'm better for Lori than you, man. 'Cause I'm better man that you, Rick"

"You came back here and just destroy everything"

They were truth at some point, too. But were they now?

Rick lifted his foot and grabbed his arms.

"This isn't the way I expected, you know. This isn't. Shane..."

Tears again. Rick touched the gun that was on his pocket, waiting to be used. Now one arm of his was released. Touched Rick's leg gently. Then he felt his arm grab it with strenght. Tried to stop that contact but couldn't. Rick had to do it.

Rick put one foot on his right arm and the other foot in his left arm. Felt the pressure. Felt the pain of all Rick's weight over him.

Rick thought for a moment. Then started to sit on his stomach, he was going down real slowly. Shane shivered. As Rick remain seat, his arms were released again for a few seconds before Rick rested there his legs. He was still crying and Shane felt he was doing that too.

"I just want to..." Rick said bringing out his Colt Python and pointing with it in his forehead.

_Don't._

"I…"

_Please._

"I can't" said firmly. "I... can't. I just can't. Damn it."

Then, both heard more moans and grunts and footsteps.

_They' re coming._

He tried to warned Rick, but he already knew. They were coming. More like him. Rick wiped the tears and petted his face. He closed his eyes, or, at least, felt like to. Somehow knew he didn't. Rick just said "I'm sorry" and left running. Heard him took down some walkers while returning to the farm.

That was all?

Tried to get up but his body just moved by its own. His arms and legs were lighter now, but he couldn't move them, they just moved, on their own. Wanted to scream, wanted to go back to Rick. Wanted to say that he was the one who were sorry.

_Maybe it's too late._

(...)

Heard gunshots and cars all night. Damn. What a noisy, loud, moving night. Obviously they made it. He was sure Rick made it, but what about the rest? He was in some way surprised any of them knocked down him. Did they see him? He knew he didn't. He would have died again. And not by any of their weapons.

It was hard to choose between before and now. Really.

It was hard to tell what hurt more. When he was alone being surrounded by the ones he loved the most, but without the possibility of express it. Or now, when he was surrounded by these walking deads, without the possibility of express and far away from the ones he loved.

The sun raised again and the fear of having lost everything overwhelmed him. That was it. He was dead for everyone. For Rick, for Carl, for Lori.

He remembered the first time with her. It was so awkward. So wrong but so right. She was all he ever imagined. The sighs, the touch. His heart beating underneath his chest, so coordinated, so meant to be. Was this all dead rising, just for them to be together? This had to happen, just to feel Lori's skin underneath his hands? To feel his heart beat for her? Yes, only in this circunstances, in this context, when the line between good and bad isn't clear enough.

He remembered all Rick's situation. Oh god, the way he desired being the one shot. He didn't have a son, he didn't have a wife, or a meaning. Rick was the one who had to live.

That book about the coma state he read... Did Rick really listen? And that thing Rick said about him being the first thing he saw before waking up, was the truth? The thing about the flowers he left? Well... that was all Rick heard and saw anyway.

Did Lori go to see his husband? No. What about Carl? No. She didn't even take him. Their peers? No.

Shane.

Shane was the one.

Thought about Lori again. He didn't have the time to say goodbye.

He didn't have time to go out with Carl one last time. The kid even was mad at him. All was just so wrong.

He cursed himself, just for having this ending. This wasn't meant to be that way. Leaving this world without the image of a mature Carl, without the image of the group in a safe place.

Leaving this world without the image of his own son or daughter.

It was hard. Really hard.

But what if…

As long as he could see he wasn't dead. Well, not dead-dead. He was still in there, but just, couldn't get out.

That's worse.

Felt his feet stop for a second. He walked all night and didn't feel any tiredness. After the dawn and during the dawn, he heard more gunshots. It sounded like a Beretta. He was confused.

His body remained stained while he started hearing something. Footsteps. Not dead footsteps. His hearing sense sharpened. Began to smell, to feel.

Approached to a bush. Remained quiet. Saw two walkers passing by, going in to the direction of the footsteps. They sounded tired, weak.

Felt his own feet try to move, but he was trapped in a few roots and mud.

Heard more walkers.

The not dead footsteps accelerated and heard gunshots again. Apparently that person shooting had a walker free moment and now it was all happening again.

Suddenly a woman appeared. She had a string with two walkers behind her, a big sword and a look of decision. More walkers appeared and she killed them with mastery, without a pinch of doubt. Prayed for not being seen.

His prayers were heard.

Apparently there was something much more interesting for her.

Maybe the gunshots.

They meant, after all, a person alive.

Fully alive, unlike him.

He nodded.

Definitely more alive than him.

Managed to free himself and followed the footsteps. He was slower than ever. Thanked for that. Started hearing.

"Thank you" a voice said.

It was Andrea.

It was her, he was sure.

She was sitting on the ground, with the sword black woman in front of her. The other one nodded and extended a hand to Andrea.

She got up and smiled.

Imagined for a second it was for him.

The more he brought himself closer, the more he smell and felt the fresh meat.

When she saw him, Andrea froze and watched at the other woman with fear.

"I knew him" said in a whisper.

"We have to get out of here and quickly" the woman answered. Took Andrea by the hand and left before he arrived. Feet away are more away when you walk that way.

And in this case it was a blessing.

Continued his march with the reminder of Andrea's look. The fear. The regret.

She was safe now, but that look...

It was funny how when his body felt so released and lighter, his head was the most heavy and thoughts loaded. Maybe it was to keep the balance.

Time passed by as he accostumed to let loose in his new body. With time, he started not to offer resistance and learnt to look everything from the new perspective. All the surrounding things were alive, except for him. One day he killed a deer and remembered with pain the day Carl had been shot. The look he exchanged with Rick when, for one moment, the world seemed normal again.  
Carl was so happy.  
The memory was so overwhelming he almost forgot the look on Carl's eyes when he got up.

So, days passed. And he was still half alive.  
Sometimes he wondered how much time would that last. What would Rick be doing? Did he miss him? Did he miss their friendship?  
One day he heard more footsteps.  
He smelled life and approached to it, with his body leading. His mind raced as his anonymous feet get to a group of people that were surrounding a pit. His body got loose in the possibilty of eating again. But they were armed to the teeth and what was left of Shane knew that was going to be his end. Somewhere he felt relief.

"Wow, wow, wow. What do we got here?" said in raspy voice. Merle approached to him as his smile grew bigger. "Ya were hard ta catch, didn't ya?" joked before showing him his new hand. "I'll end ya suffer, officer"

He said goodbye to life, which meant saying goodbye to the, according to him, his well earned and taken away family and exhaled one last time before the knife entered his half dead brain and, at that point, he felt something he thought he would never felt. He felt thankful to Merle Dixon. And that was it.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading.  
> This work is also post in my fanfiction dot net account.


End file.
